A Day in Their Shoes
by FleetFan
Summary: A girl who hates Big Time Rush wakes up to find herself in Carlos's body.
1. Good Morning, Carlos

I leaned over my sister's shoulder, watching her scroll through Kendall's twitter page. Finally I gave her a tap to make myself known. She immediately jerked in surprise. "Grace!" she whined. Then she closed the window out.

She twisted around to stare me in the face. "What are you doing?" she asked crossly. "Could I please have some privacy?" I ignored her request and merely continued to smirk.

"Do you follow Kendall's twitter, Siggy? Mom doesn't even know you have a twitter account. More importantly, do you tweet?" I tutted. "Well, I obviously have to tell her. It's dangerous writing about yourself on the web!"

Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes. "Don't tell Mom and Dad," she pleaded of me. "I swear I'm being responsible!" I heaved a sigh and straightened up.

"Alright, I'll go easy on you this once. But in exchange for me keeping this secret..." She looked up at me with large, frightened eyes.

"...you gotta pay me ten bucks."

She sighed in relief, reached into her purse, and ruffled through a wad of green paper. Finally she extracted two dollar bills and pressed them into my palm. "Thank gosh, I was worried you were gonna ask for my signed Kendall poster!"

I frowned and stuffed the money into my own wallet. "Why would I want your stupid Kendall poster?" She opened her mouth to speak, but I marched off. "Whatever, but I'll never understand you, Siggy."

* * *

"We're moving?" I asked, appalled. Mom's words still hadn't sunk in. I simply stared at her while she put an arm around Dad.

"Well, just a few weeks ago they got him a wonderful job opportunity in California...we've been mulling it over, and together we've decided that it's what's best. We'll be flying over very soon."

I whimpered as tears started to spill out of my eyes. "...No time to say goodbye to my friends?"

Mom hugged me close and patted my back. "Oh, of course not, honey," she cooed. "You'll have at least another week to say goodbye to all of them...And even after we've moved you can still keep in touch."

I started to sob openly; I couldn't hide my grief. "How could you?" I wailed, making random jabs at her with my fists. But realizing it was useless, I crossed my arms and stormed off.

* * *

There was a barely audible rap on my door. I didn't bother to get up, but instead continued to smother my face with a pillow. She knocked again.

I moaned, giving in to the annoyance. "Alright, Siggy, you can come in." The door swung open with a creak.

My eleven-year-old sister shuffled in, looking very nervous and jumpy. She'd been like that ever since I'd threatened to spill her secrets to Mom. Now she always took care not too offend me, although after about a week it had grown to be irritating.

"What is it?" I asked, lifting my face from the pillow for the first time in an hour or so. My eyes were red and itchy from being wiped so much, but she was averting her gaze so she probably hadn't noticed yet anyway.

"Just came in to give you some good news," she stammered. Meanwhile, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. Good news for her could be terrible for me.

"Spill it already," I retorted.

She took a breath to steady herself before showing me a map. All I did was blow a dangling strand of hair off my face with a frustrated puff. "Okay, explain yourself."

She took a moment to find the red dot in the center before placing an index finger on it. "That's our house, Grace. And..." Then she slid it to the east, onto a blue-colored dot. "...that's Kendall's."

"So?" I prompted, venom leaking through my words. She fidgeted uncomfortably.

"See, recently all the guys in Big Time Rush have gotten houses in L.A; their families have moved there from Minnesota. Kendall's house is gonna be in our new neighborhood!" At the end of the sentence the pitch of her voice heightened to an excited squeak. "Isn't that great?"

I made an irritated sound in the back of my throat. "Is that it? Okay, please leave now."

Siggy suddenly hiccuped and being to cry. "Grace...why?" Then she ran out, slamming the door behind her. I was too ashamed to leave my room after that.

* * *

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Huh?

Suddenly I was hit by the shock of this and sat bolt upright. Where was I? I was in a small room plastered with hockey posters all over the walls. That was its most prominent detail, which was saying something.

I hauled my legs off the bed, ready to start exploring, but then I froze.

I wasn't me. I was someone else. I was a hispanic teenage boy staring down at his hands and slowly figuring that out. Oh no.

I sat there clutching my shirt, which had some sort of logo on it. I glanced down. Big Time Rush. I knew that emblem all too well. But strange that a person like him would be wearing it. Wait...what was going on? I'd noticed a picture of a familliar-looking guy in a picture frame.

Familliar meaning that his face was what was all over my little sister's walls. Kendall Knight.

So...this guy who I was happened to be another hardcore fan of Big Time Rush? Puzzled, I headed into the bathroom to check myself out.

Oh my god. I suddenly knew who I was. And to think it would be me, of all people, that would be cast in this role. The occupier of whose body but...

Carlos Garcia's. The mere thought of his name made me flinch.

Because I wasn't a fan of Big Time Rush. In fact, I'd made it a habit to stay away from anyone who was. I believed they were a stupid band who had meaningless songs and boys who were there only to be "hot." Which they weren't.

I began to panic, pacing back in forth. Oh no...oh no! What had I done to get this curse? I just wanted to be regular old me, 7th grader at Mason Middle, older sister of Siggy. But now I was stuck in the body of a 16-year-old idiot and I was supposed to know the ins-and-outs of his life. How was I going to manage?

I headed to his desk and began digging out its drawers. It was nearly empty; all I found were a few crumpled papers and a banana peel. So much for that. So I was just supposed to improvise? I searched the rest of the room, but found close to nothing. All I learned in those short thirty minutes of research was that he was obsessed with his hockey helmet, since he was wearing it in all of his pictures, and that due to the lack of books he probably wasn't very smart.

That was the only thing that made this easier. I could act confused without acting different. ...Whoop dee doo.

I headed downstairs carefully, listening for anyone else awake. Although it was late morning, the house was deathly silent.

I descended the rest of the carpeted stairs into a wooden hallway. Then I entered the kitchen. The walls were painted a mild yellow and there was a counter in the middle. I sat down on one of the stools. Come to think of it, I was starving.

I checked the oven and saw the time to be 10:05. Okay, I should probably eat breakfast. So I rooted through the cabinets until I found a dusty-looking cereal box. Then I poured myself some and ate in deep thought.

I was jolted out of my reverie by the sound of padded footsteps coming from the hall. I glanced around and saw a lady walking in. She was hispanic too, so she was probably my mom. She wore a bathrobe and fluffy pink slippers; I stifled a laugh.

"Carlos?" she asked, sounding surprised. She opened a different cabinet than the one I'd gone into and retrieved a different brand cereal box. "Why are you eating your father's cereal? Not that it isn't much healthier." I noticed she had Lucky Charms in her hand.

"Oh!" I said, as if just now realizing I had a voice. It sounded gentle and sweet. Better than I'd thought. "I dunno, spur of the moment."

She stared at me a moment before starting to eat. "Okay." We finished the meal in silence.

"So, what am I doing today?" I asked her once I was done. I put my bowl in the sink, assuming I wasn't supposed to be spoiled.

Mom started shuffling around. "You really should try to remember these things, but luckily enough I ran into Gustavo the other day, and if I can remember, you'll be going to the studio to rehearse."

I paused, thinking. I was 16, but I did I have a car? Did I even know how to drive? "So...are you driving me?"

She looked at me like I was stupid. "Of course! You don't even have your learners permit."

Duh! I should have remembered that from Siggy. Logan was the only one who could drive-and only legally with an adult.

"Okay," I conceded nervously. So I trotted upstairs to dress.

I flipped through his closet and found all the clothes to be very cute. I picked out some blue jeans and a black jacket with a gray sweatshirt. Then I slipped into some blue tennis shoes. The hockey helmet was sitting on my night stand, but I figured I wouldn't need any protection in a singing booth.

I went back downstairs, told Mom I was ready, then went out to the car. While I waited I noticed my hair, which was usually slightly spiked, lay flat on my head. So I made some pitiful attempts at giving it life before admitting defeat and relaxing while I thought about things.

Was singing a muscle memory that came with Carlos's body, or was it something I would have to muster from the little experience I had? I would have to just wait and see. Hopefully I wouldn't have to play an instrument or remember many lyrics. Just in case, I rooted around in my bag and found some lyrics sheets to try and memorize. Soon I got caught up in the words.

_There are so many things_

_That I never ever got to say_

_Cause I'm always_

_Tongue tied with my_

_Words getting in the way_

_If you could read my mind_

_Then all your doubts_

_Would be left behind_

_And every little thing_

_Would be falling into place_

It was remarkable how close to home they hit. I'd always felt that way, stumbling over words in the heat of things, right when I needed them most. Back home in Florida, I had a boy who I secretly crushed on...

Well, now that I was a boy my hormones absolutely hated that idea; that feeling that I loved Charlie. I would have to ignore it so it didn't drive me nuts. It was so strange how contradictory my feelings were. I was still myself, and yet this body wanted me to like girls...

Gross.

Mom slid into the car, reminded me to buckle my seatbelt, then we were off. I found myself enjoying the big, famous sights of L.A. Although it was smoggy, it was also warm and sunny, and sticking my head out the window was irresistible. I started hooting and laughing as we sped down the highway.

Finally we pulled up to Gustavo's studio and I clambered out. Then I went inside and leaped the steps two at a time. Finally I entered the familliar red-carpeted hallway with posters of boy bands since failed. For once I felt grateful to Siggy, her investigative nature, and her willingness to share her finds even if the ones she's sharing with would rather hear nails on a chalkboard.

I obviously didn't need to explain that.

I strode into the nearest room to-luckily-find Kendall and Logan. "James isn't here yet," the blondie complained. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw Gustavo sitting on the other side of a glass wall with a large panel of buttons in front of him.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to act cheery and failing.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Kendall said immediately.

I shrugged and slid into place next to him. "What...what are you talking about? I feel fine." I fixed a pair of headphones over my ears before he could reply, but he plucked one off.

"Hey!" he shouted right into my face, making me jump and remove the equipment.

"Jeez, what?" I asked.

"Don't try to shut me out," he said irritably. "I was asking you what happened, since you obviously aren't fine."

I heaved a sigh. I obviously had to lie. "Dunno, bad morning. Okay, so what song are we recording?"

Kendall opened his mouth, but Logan spoke first. "A new one yet to be named. But we can't sing it till James arrives."

Gustavo stormed in. "Okay, monkey-dogs, one of you needs to go and get James or I WILL EXPLODE!"

"Um," Logan stuttered, "Due to human limitations you can't willingly-"

"I will," Kendall volunteered quickly. "He's probably just sleeping in." I couldn't help noticing that he had a hint of worry on his face.

"Good luck," Logan grunted, slapping him on the chest as he left the booth. Then he turned to me.

"It's not healthy to spend as much time in front of a mirror as James does," he announced out of the blue. "And I'm not one to exaggerate."

"Think he's sick?" I asked in a bored voice. I drummed the mic. "Maybe we aren't recording today after all!"

Logan lowered his voice to a whisper. "Are you kidding? That maniac of a producer would make us sing in crutches!" I gulped and watched Gustavo moaning and rubbing his temples.

"I'd believe that."

"What's up!" James strode in, Kendall following close behind. "I was just fixing my hair with my lucky comb!"

I whacked him playfully. "Hey, man! We have a song to sing!"

He looked annoyed. "Exactly, I had to prepare!"

I made an unimpressed face. "Whatever." Then I leaned towards the mic. "Okay Gustavo, let's do this thing!"

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeahhh_

_Ohhh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_So tell me who I am I supposed to be?_

_What I gotta do to get you close to me?_

_If I run away tonight will you follow me?_

_C'mon, c'mon, c'mon (oh yeah)_

_I see you standing there all alone (all alone)_

_Knowing you've been wanting me to say hello_

_Cause when the lights go flashing everybody knows_

_It's on it's on it's onnn_

_(Hey) Say anything you want_

_I turn the music on_

_'Cause baby we ain't going no-oh-oh-where_

_I'll leave it all behind_

_To be with you tonight_

_And everybody's screaming oh oh oh oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeahh_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah yeah_

_And now it's time I gotta make a move_

_We could be together if you only knew (only knew)_

_Cause life's too short, we got nothing to lose_

_C'mon c'mon c'mon_

_(Oh yeah)_

_I can't seem to get you out of my mind (oh no)_

_And I ain't gonna stop until I make you mine (make you mine)_

_I just gotta make it to you by the end of the night_

_Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeahh_

_Ohhhh_

_Say anything you want_

_I turn the music on_

_'Cause baby we ain't going no-oh-oh-where_

_I'll leave it all behind_

_To be with you tonight_

_And everybody's screaming oh oh oh oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeahh_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah yeah_

_I know that tonight is ending_

_And time is keeps on running out_

_I gotta find my way to you_

_Oh yeahhhhhhhh_

_Say anything you want (say anything)_

_I turn the music on_

_'Cause baby we ain't going no-oh-oh-where_

_I'll leave it all behind_

_To be with you tonight_

_And everybody's screaming oh oh oh oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeahh_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah oh yeah_

_Screaming oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_Ohhh yeahhh_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_C'mon_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_I wanna hear you say_

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeahh_

"Now GET OUT!" Gustavo boomed once the last note came to a ringing stop. I bobbed my head and followed close behind James as we all poured out of the hallway with whoops and cheers. Apparently it was rare that we got a song in one take.

Mom came back from a nearby store after I waited a few minutes on the bench outside. Then we got in the car. I was still marveling at how the words had rolled effortlessly off my lips, and the wonderful, melodious notes filled my lungs. I was starting to actually enjoy this!

* * *

"So how'd it go?" Mom asked conversationally as we pulled onto our sun-baked driveway. Our house was a two-story with a pretty front that had a big white porch and some flowerbeds.

I scrambled out once we parked and headed straight for the back door. "Good. We managed fast."

"I can see that," she acknowledged as she spread the keys out in her hand and found the shiny silver one for our house. "Thanks for waiting for me, Carlitos."

The door sprang open. "No problem!" I cried happily, bounding into the house. I snacked on a sandwich before going back up to my room.

For some reason I felt the urge to wear my helmet, so I strapped it on. Then I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to think. Somehow it was more difficult than it had been before.

Then I realized what was happening. My real self was drowning inside Carlos. Before too long I would be exactly like him, except not know it. In fact, I probably wouldn't remember anything about my past life. Siggy and my "old" parents (I couldn't help thinking of them that way at this point) would have forgotten me as well.

Just then the doorbell rang. I decided to wait for Mom to get it. I wasn't in the mood; I was draped across my bed, staring up at the ceiling with a morose look on my face. Trying to remember things I should be able to, like my "old" middle name.

Not only that, but trying to push out the random facts that would come out of nowhere at me. Facts about Carlos. Like his favorite flavor of smoothie and his girlfriend's name. What was it again?

"Vanessa! Carlos is upstairs. Was he expecting you?"

"No, I just wanted to surprise him." I heard quick footsteps on the way up. Then I suddenly realized what was going on.

"Oh no."

I said it just as a girl stepped in, wearing faded blue jeans and a striped purple-and-gray shirt. She was a brunette and had a creamy brown complexion. "What's up?" she asked as she sat next to me on the bed.

I eased myself up out of my reclining position, frantically searching for something to say. "...Wanna play hockey?" I blurted out.

"Uh, no thanks," she said, eyeing me strangely. Then she cupped my face in her hands and slowly leaned forward. "This is all I'm interested in."

Her lips were coming at me...I was panicking. I couldn't kiss a girl! It was against the rules! Well, for most people, but I considered myself one of them!

I broke away just in time. "Oh, but..." Uh oh, what was my excuse? "I'm not feeling too well. I don't want you getting sick."

She made a pouty face. "Awwww, Carlitos has the flu?" Then she stroked my chin with a finger while I tried desperately to ignore it.

"...I never said that," I managed through clenched teeth. "Just a head cold, probably."

"Still," she insisted. "This isn't good! You need to take care of yourself!" Then she hugged me a little too hard. Angry?

I swallowed and tried to think of something to make it up to her. "You're...really hot, Vanessa."

Ugh, talk about the least creative compliment I'd ever heard. I winced painfully. And yet she seemed to accept it.

"Thank you," she said coyly, batting her eyelashes at me. Double ugh. "But you're not my boyfriend just cause!"

She nuzzled my cheek, her lips straying closer and closer to my mouth. "You're soooo sexy..."

I was mortified and frozen in place as she caressed me with her hands. Finally I couldn't help myself and backed away.

"Hey!" she whined, grabbing my shoulders and forcefully pulling me close again. "What's wrong with you, Carlitos? I thought I was hot."

"You...you are," I stammered. "But this isn't the best time, Pumpkin. Like I said, I'm sick, and... Well, I'm dealing with some things."

Despite my encouragements, she burst into tears. "I'm not good enough for you!" she sobbed.

"That...that isn't true!" I patted her on the back, then when I realized it wasn't enough, awkwardly pulled her into a hug. "I love you a lot! You're the best girl I've ever met!"

She sniffled and finally stopped. (Yet surprisingly fast, the next time she looked up at me she had a goofy grin on her face) "Your kiss won't make me sick, it'll cure me from my heartache."

"Oh," I said slowly.

"So kiss me, please?" she asked.

"No." I wasn't really willing to go through that kind of traumatic experience just to keep Carlos's reputation intact. He would probably be better off with a different girl who was actually good for him, after all.

"Grrr!" She bared her teeth and punched my arm-once again, a little too hard. "Carlos, why?"

"I already explained," I said impatiently. "Why don't we just go out somewhere? You love the movies, right?" Okay, I was taking a risk with that.

She sighed and stood up. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe this is just too soon for us. But...it wouldn't hurt to hold hands, right?"

I faked a smile. "Sure, Vanessa." Then I took her by the wrist and led her downstairs. Time to see a movie.

We stumbled into my room and collapsed on various soft places. I didn't bother to turn on the light; it was 12:00 and we were both very exhausted. "You should go home," I managed to mumble through my yawn. All she did was groan and flop next to me on the bed. Her body heat made me want to lie there forever, instead of getting up and driving her home. I mean, I would get in deep trouble if I woke up my mom at this hour. And through the day I'd learned so many things about "myself" that by now I probably knew how to drive.

The problem was getting up.

Vanessa snuggled closer to me until we were too close for comfort. I found myself just lying there-she had quickly fallen asleep-and staring at her face, feeling like a stone statue and not being able to do anything.

I was a girl. But...technically, I was a boy.

...I felt so confused!

The instincts of Carlos's body were to get even closer and enjoy just one night together. But that was stupid and reckless! I couldn't let my hormones take over, I had to be responsible and listen more to the 13-year-old girl inside me who felt really uncomfortable with this. The problem was, with every second I was losing grip of my old self. I couldn't even remember my real name.

Slowly I drifted into sleep.

* * *

A second later I was in a different bed. And yet morning light shone red through my eyelids.

I slowly opened my eyes, not daring to believe it. And as it ended up, I shouldn't have. I wasn't back in my old body; I was in a new one. I was in Logan Mitchell's.

Here we go again.

* * *

Carlos awoke suddenly, as if from a deep sleep. He could feel a warm, living body next to him, their chest slowly rising and falling, up and down...

What the heck? He carefully sat up, making sure not to disturb Vanessa in her sleep, and looked around. The room seemed different than how he last remembered; his desk drawer was open and the laundry basket was full. And why was his girlfriend sleeping in his bed?

A flush tinted his cheeks. Well, at least she wasn't naked. She was fully dressed-she even had a thick gray jacket on. But more importantly, why was she here? Carlos scrambled over to his laptop and checked the date. This was when he started to panic.

What in the world? It was two days later! No, this couldn't be right...

"Vanessa, sweetie?" he shook her a few times, although he wasn't yet sure of what to say. She woke with a slight groan on her lips, the bed creaking as she started shifting around.

"Carlos? Oh, I'm sorry. I was just so tired last night..."

"Me too," he stammered, helping her sit up. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. Then he gently took her hands and lifted her onto her feet.

"So, d'you remember what we did yesterday?"

She laughed and squeezed him lovingly. "Of course, silly!" Meanwhile, he had an arm over her shoulder and was guiding her down the stairs. "We went to the movies! Wasn't it so scary?"

"Yeah," he said as he played with her hair. He had to lie, of course. She sat down at the counter while he fetched her some breakfast. For some reason he felt like eating his dad's.


	2. Here We Go Again

I threw the covers off myself and went to the mirror in the corner to make sure. No doubt about it, I was now Siggy's second biggest crush-Logan Mitchell. I sat down on the small couch and wondered what to do. Based off the watch on my nightstand, it was 9:03. I should at least try to do a little bit of research before I went down for breakfast.

I went through the chest of drawers, but besides finding some pairs of shorts and an awful lot of boxers, all I came across were a few photographs of what I could only assume were family members. There was an attractive blonde lady in one of them who I was pretty sure was my mom.

Besides that, there was a shelf crammed with books and a hockey stick in the corner. There was also a small trampoline for working out. His room was a lot bigger than Carlos's, so it had room for all that and a computer desk as well.

I descended the winding staircase into a kitchen with a vaulted ceiling. Through sliding glass doors I could see a huge field with trees beyond. I actually might enjoy it here.

I saw a plate of bacon and took some to heat up. Then I poured myself some orange juice and got a banana. This house was also well-supplied, which only did more to impress me.

Just as I took my last bite of bacon I heard a phone buzz. It was sitting next to the fruit bowl, and I clicked it open without a second thought. Somehow I knew it was mine.

After I moment of searching I noticed I'd gotten a text, and I opened it up. "Plz come over. I miss u so much!" It was sent by someone named "Mallary."

Okay...so who was that?

I went back to my room and gathered up all the photos I'd found. I began organizing them into piles. I set the boy pictures farther away, since Mallary was the name of a girl. Finally I was left with my possible mother, a small girl who was also possibly my sister, and a teenage girl with curly brown hair and braces. The latter was most likely Mallary. So...was she my girlfriend?

I decided to check the computer. I turned it on, prayed there was no password, then signed in relief when evidently there wasn't. I searched through Logan's files for any pictures he had.

Within 5 minutes I was very successful. I'd found photos of me and the girl hugging, eating out somewhere, and even one where she'd pecked me on the cheek. Girlfriend? Probability was 100%.

I shrugged off the personality change, got dressed, and trotted back downstairs. Then I snatched a pair of keys off a coffee table and ran out to my car. Once I was inside I merely sat there and drummed my fingers on the dashboard. Mallary's... Mallary's. Her address had to be somewhere in my subconscious.

Finally I pulled it out of nowhere and entered it into the GPS. Bingo...right down the street. This shouldn't be too hard, right? But I couldn't help feeling nervous for betraying Mom and leaving without her.

It wasn't illegal when you were only driving down the street, right? But I was antsy and wanted to get around to doing things. Eventually I decided that I would just text her some kind of excuse. I probably wouldn't be Logan anymore tomorrow, so I wouldn't have to deal with the consequences anyway.

This was the tricky part. I had to use Logan's instincts without using his thoughts. I didn't want to suddenly lose my grip and forget who I really was. I needed to keep this under control.

Gradually letting the flow of information increase, I turned the key in the ignition and started pulling out. The motion of the SUV on the smooth road was still gut-wrenchingly jerky. Meanwhile, I could feel myself beginning to slip. Wh-what's going on? I heard Logan think. My heart quickened its pace.

I tried forcing his will back, while trying to dig out what he knew. It wasn't easy. The more I figured out about driving, the more I got other useless bits of information, and the more I heard his voice in my head. There were moments when the movements my hands made on the steering wheel weren't even my own. It scared me to death.

But after 3 minutes of torture I was parked in another driveway, flattened against the car seat and breathing fast. Get out! It's for your own good! I shouted silently. You'll get your body back tomorrow! Slowly I felt his presence fade away, until all I could hear was my own heavy breathing and the way my hands were shaking was because of my fear. Then I halted the engine and climbed out. So this was Mallary's house?


	3. Mallary's Place

I rang the doorbell and almost immediately the door swung open. Sure enough, it was a slightly older version of the teenage brunette, although she no longer had a mouthful of braces and she looked a little sour.

"Hello?" I said tentatively. "Mallary?"

She pulled me in, then shut the door behind me. "Logan," she finally said with her hands on her hips. "So you finally listened to my texts."

I did a small shrug; I wasn't sure what to say. "Uh...yeah." Her face immediately brightened.

"Oh, so you aren't here to take my bracelet back. What a relief, it's my favorite!" She blushed slightly as she pulled back her sleeve to expose a silver chain around her wrist. It had a few charms on it.

"Wh...why would I?" I asked nervously. I was noticing that Logan's body tended to sweat a lot, and I peeled back my collar to get some air on my skin.

She started to smile. "You really feel that way? You're not angry any more?"

"Was I ever?" I croaked.

She laughed and embraced me in a hug, and I just stood there with my arms hanging dead at my sides. I was really confused. After a long, tight bear hug, she gave me one final squeeze then released. Somehow she hadn't recognized my less than wholehearted response and was still beaming at me.

"Glad to see you're finally seeing things my way! But to think it took so long to win you over. Two months! It really has been that long, hasn't it?"

I cocked my head. "Guess so."

"Well, sorry for not saying so sooner, but come into the kitchen, will you? I'll make you some tea."

"Thanks, Mallary," I said, sitting down as she busied herself with some tea bags. I tried to smudge the sweat off my neck with the palms of my hands. Fail.

After a few minutes it was ready, and she poured us two cups before sitting across from me with an undeniable grin. "Oh, Logie..." she sighed, the steam rising from the mug and curling around her face. Luckily it seemed to hide my involuntary shudder. "Stay over tonight, will you?"

I almost choked on my tea; I set the cup back on the plate with a sharp clink. "Excuse me-what?"

"You heard me," she muttered, sounding offended. "It's the only way to make up for all the things you said..."

"Some excuse," I whispered under my breath. Then I looked up from the warm brown stain spreading on my shirt. "Sorry, I'm busy tonight." Jeez, I couldn't have another boy waking up with his girlfriend in bed. It would cause suspicion.

Also I was reluctant for another traumatic experience.

"Logan!" she whined, punching me in the arm. "This isn't funny." Ouch.

"You're right, and I'm sorry," I grunted as I glanced between the stain and my new bruise. "But I have to go to the studio. Tell you what, tomorrow I'll stay over and we can have all the fun we want. And it'll make up for all that time I..."

I trailed off. I finally understood who she was. She was my ex.

Just then I heard my Big Time Rush ringtone go off in my pocket; what horrible timing. I opened my cellphone and read the caller ID.

Mom. Oh no.

"Hi, Mom?" I nearly whimpered. There was a short, angry pause on her end.

"Logan," she fumed. "You better get back here right now! I can't _believe_ you drove somewhere by yourself! It better have been an emergency!" I swallowed down a lump in my throat.

All of a sudden Mallary intercepted the phone. "Hello, Mrs. Mitchell?" she said in a polite, concerned voice. "I couldn't help hearing that Logan's in trouble." She gave me an obvious wink. "Well, I just wanted to say that it _was_ an emergency. I hurt myself falling down the stairs and Mom wasn't home. He was the first person I thought to call. He was so sweet! He came here without a second thought." She took a moment to breathe, then let her last few words come out in a rush, "Oh, and by the way, Logan and I are back together!"

Mallary clicked the phone off. "Am I genius or what?"

I almost said 'Or what?' but kept my mouth shut. Now wasn't the time; I needed to get home to avoid further punishment.

"I owe you Big Time," I said as I backed away, briefly smiling at the reference to my band. "See you tomorrow, okay?" Then I ran outside, slid into the driver's seat, and curved down the road without a second thought.

* * *

When I arrived at the house Mom was waiting anxiously by the front door, tapping her foot. The car came to a rumbling standstill before I rushed out. "Mom!" I said in a very flustered manner. "I'm so sorry!" I hugged her meekly.

Fortunately she accepted it, but then she stood back with a stern look on her face. "Logan, you know you could have woken me. And why on earth didn't you try to knock some sense into that girl and tell her to call 911 before you came to her house? And _why _are you and Mallary back together after you found out she was cheating and you got into that big fight?" By now she was shouting and I was cowering beneath her.

Boy, it was gonna be a long day.

* * *

The nausea was sudden and dizzying. Logan immediately whipped the covers off himself and shot into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and doubling over the toilet. He was severely ill for a few minutes, until gradually he calmed and was able to think. The nausea receded, although he was still sweaty and pale.

What was going on? Logan felt different and strange; out of place. He pulled himself up out of a crouch and leaned against the bathroom counter, staring intently into his own eyes. The mirror showed a tired, sickly boy whose shirt was stained with sweat.

He pulled the old gray t-shirt off and tossed it in the laundry basket before heading back into his room to dress.

Logan finished buttoning his red polo, straightened the white edges of his sleeves, then sat down at the computer to look up his symptoms. The first thing he noticed was that a file was open-a picture file. He clicked on it and watched as photographs of him and Mallary flitted across the screen. How odd; he hadn't looked at those in months. She was his ex, after all.

Then he got an even bigger jolt; he noticed that the date on the screen was wrong. ...Unless he'd slept for two days straight. Logan paused to wipe away the beads of sweat that were starting to come out on his forehead again. This whole experience was unnatural and frightening. So now he had to wonder, was it really the 18th?

Just then his phone rang. He flipped it open and pressed it to his ear without bothering to check the Caller ID. "Logie!" squealed a familliar-sounding voice.

What the heck? Logan's hand clenched around the phone, ready to smash it on the ground. "Mallary!" he snapped through the receiver. "Will you just leave me alone?"

"But..." she whimpered, sounding hurt. "Yesterday we made up and you said you'd be my BF again."

"You...you mean Wednesday?" he asked after a moment. He couldn't stop the fear from bleeding through his voice.

"No, Thursday," she said, sounding annoyed. "Get your facts straight. And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Yesterday you drove over cuz you said you finally listened to my texts."

Logan started to feel angry again. Why was none of this making sense? He stood up and began to pace, agitatedly running his fingers through his hair. "I don't remember any of that!" he said. "Why would I want to be your boyfriend again? You're crazy!"

She started to sob, the static breaking up her voice. "So I waited all this time...to win you over and then find out your head is messed up?"

"My head is fine!" he argued defensively. "I'm a lot smarter than you'll ever be, Mallary. What kind of girl believes she can have three boyfriends at once? This is why I dumped you!"

"We're not talking about that!" she growled. "We're talking about how you came over yesterday and agreed to stay over tonight, and now today you have memory loss! Did you just want to place games with my head?" She took a moment to sob. "Dammit!"

Logan felt a small instance of pity. She truly did sound hurt and confused. Could it be that he did have memory loss? But what from?

He quickly went back to being angry and pulling out tufts of hair. "Look, that's not how I feel, so can we just pretend this never happened? Us being together would never work out anyway."

"_Dammit!"_ she screeched even louder, making him flinch away from the phone. "You'll regret this, Logan Mitchell, you'll regret it!" Then, after a moment of silence, she hung up.

He collapsed on the bed with his arms around his face, exhausted from yelling and being sick. All he wanted to do was sleep.


	4. Superman

I woke up and felt the sudden, overpowering urge to look good. So I ran into the bathroom, locked the door, and began saturating my hair with Cuda Man spray. It was only after thirty minutes of styling that I came to my senses and went to get dressed. Wow, this guy must be really obsessed with his hair! Trying to get his thoughts out of my head, I went downstairs and literally inhaled a plate of eggs.

My dad was already down there, reading a newspaper and frowning. I decided not to bother him; it wasn't worth the risk. So instead I decided to go to Rocque Records early. I might as well get a head start.

I got a backpack from James's room and considered what to bring. Before I could actually think, I was loading all sorts of things into it. But besides all the hair products and the large book of head shots, I noticed the way I carefully slipped my lucky comb into a certain pouch. "Take care," James whispered meaningfully through my lips.

At this point I couldn't take it anymore. I bent over, roaring with laughter. Who was this guy and why did he care so much about good looks? It was ridiculously funny. But I lost my sense of humor the second I tried to lift the backpack off the ground. You'd think there was a pile of bricks inside-but no, just an assortment of James's 'necessities.'

It was then that I realized my muscles. I must have been too distracted by my hair until now. My arms were a lot stronger than Carlos's and Kendall's, and obviously it was from James lifting this huge pack. So after I took a deep breath and actually tried _using_ my arms, I felt my hands rise effortlessly until I was holding the backpack above my head.

James wasn't just pretty boy, he was _superman._

I chuckled to myself at the comparison and went outside to find my bike. I knew I had one, but where was it? Eventually I found it in the garage, only to be pleasantly surprised at the smooth leather seat and the shiny handlebars. Was James rich? Then I remembered that his dad was a retired rock star.

Of course. That would explain the mansion.

I got on the bike and started off slowly, but my long legs were too strong for my own good. Within seconds I was speeding across the driveway and onto the street, frantically turning the handlebars left and right trying to balance. This was crazy! My surroundings were only a blur of color as I shot up the hill and down again.

But as I went I managed to control myself, until the bike was slowed to a reasonable pace, and I could read the passing signs. I still hadn't memorized the way to Rocque Records, and the signs were a huge help.

Well, evidently not helpful enough. Despite the map I finally picked up from a convenience store, I still couldn't find my way. With all the money and toys James had, you'd think he would have a GPS on his bike. But then I had to remind myself that he was superman, so he obviously knew his way around.

By lunchtime I was still aimlessly roaming the streets, sometimes the fact that I was going in circles painfully obvious. And by now I was starved, so I found a bike rack to leave the James-mobile, and went into the closest restaurant.

McDonalds. Hm, a whole lot of good that would do for his muscles. Even so, I ordered a double burger and devoured it hungrily, also consuming a large fries. But midway through it occurred to me that since I was in someone else's body, I could eat whatever I wanted to. Well, that helped loosen me up.

Afterwards I asked a trusty-looking employee how I might find the studio. Luckily, he knew the directions, and wrote them down for me street by street.

I was about to leave when my cellphone rang. "Hello?"

"It's Logan," panted my distressed friend. I could hear his mom shouting in the background. "I'm in big trouble, and I don't even know why! Look, could you tell Gustavo I might not...I might not be there today? And, err, try to tie up any other loose ends. Sorry, but I'm looking at possibly the longest punishment in my life. And it doesn't involve a lot of outdoors."

"Sure thing," I said, for once letting my character's attitude show in my words. I was really getting the hang of this. "'Kay, see you soon." Then I hung up and hopped on my bike. I needed to get to the studio fast.

As I pedaled past pedestrians on the sidewalk and the breeze whipped my hair back from my face, I thought about the problems I'd caused with Logan and started feeling guilty. I could at least speak to Gustavo to make it up to him.

After about 10 minutes I pulled up to Rocque Records and carefully leaned my bike against the curb. I would be in there for a fairly short time, only long enough to speak to Gustavo and record a few lines for a song. Hopefully Kendall would be there as well, since he was getting to be a reliable friend.

* * *

"Are you okay, man?" Kendall peered over to the top of his microphone to look at Logan, who was swaying and looked very faint. "I heard you got in trouble." Logan was trying to waft air through his shirt; he was sweating like a pig. "Well, my mom is mad at me, but...that's not why I look this way. I think I'm sick. I...I threw up this morning. And I feel really weird." He hesitated. "And...I can't remember..." But he trailed off and refused to say anymore.

Carlos sidled over to him. "Hey, I kinda felt like that yesterday. I mean, I didn't throw up or anything...but..." He fell silent. Meanwhile, Kendall glanced between the two and looked confused.

"What's up?" he prompted when neither of them said anything to explain themselves.

Logan shrugged. "To be honest, neither of us is exactly sure. But something very strange is going on..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," I said as comfortingly as I could. But I couldn't help looking at Logan's deteriorating state and wondering guiltily why his aftereffects were so much worse than Carlos's. Then I realized.

It was probably because of the incident with the car. This must be Logan's reaction to someone else occupying his body while he was aware of it. It had disturbed him both mentally and physically, causing him to become ill. And sweat a lot, which was something that was just unique to his character.

I patted him on the shoulder before speaking to Gustavo through my mic. "Everyone except Logan is ready." Then I glanced to my friend with a questioning look. The most he could do was work up the energy to nod. So I faced the glass wall again. "Okay, turn the music on!"

* * *

James awoke very dizzy and confused. First thing he did was go to get his hair ready, which was his daily routine. But the sight in the mirror awaiting him was not a pretty one. "It's limp and lifeless!" he gasped, tugging at the golden brown locks. Then he opened the cabinet, only to scream again. "I'm out of Cuda!"

Even Superman faints sometimes.


	5. The Concert

I stirred and opened my eyes slowly and carefully, to reveal a plain white ceiling above. Then I grunted with the effort of rolling onto one side and checking the clock. But I was more distracted by the picture frame on the nightstand next to it, showing me who I was. The 16-year-old blonde teenage heart throb, Kendall Knight.

I squealed like a fangirl.

* * *

I found myself in the bathroom with the door locked for a really long time, simply staring at my face. Personally, I found Kendall the cutest of the four. I couldn't resist tossing my sandy blonde hair and grinning Kendall's goofy grin. It was such a peculiar feeling when you were in love with yourself...so to speak.

After smirking at myself a few more times, I finally tired of my little game and headed back out. Then I tossed on some casual-looking clothes (it was Kendall's style, as I'd learned by now) and went downstairs to grab a piece of toast. While I waited for it to pop up I noticed my reflection in the shiny toaster and blew a kiss at myself.

Okay, this was just getting creepy of me. I dusted myself off and decided to hope it was him and not me. After all, only four days ago I'd despised the band known as Big Time Rush, including the leader of it whose body I now occupied.

Katie walked in. "Hey. What's up?" I asked. I greeted her with the best smile I could manage, halfheartedly turning up the corners of my lips. Although I was relieved that this was my last day, I was also disappointed. It was hard to believe after my previous attitude, but now I enjoyed hanging out with Big Time Rush and its crazy boys. I would miss them.

"Seeing you off," she responded, grabbing an apple and tossing it in the air. It landed back in her palm with a gentle _thwack_. Then she took a bite. "The concert, remember? Wow, I feel sorry for you."

"Wh...what?" I stammered. Then I started to panic. "But...but no one said anything!"

Katie rolled her eyes. "Oh, c'mon, you've known about it for weeks. Anyway, I can understand the nerves. Performing in such a big place..."

I gulped and slid my plate away, suddenly unable to eat my food. "How bad is it?"

"Over ten thousand."

"That's horrible."

"You're a performer, Kenny."

"Ha ha, very funny," I said, rolling my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach.

"Well, you are," she insisted. "Anyway, you should probably leave soon. So you're in time for rehearsals."

"I hate to dance," I complained.

"Hmm. That's part of you that hasn't changed."

I whipped around to face her with a piece of toast still dangling from my mouth. "What?" I was shocked. Was she suggesting...could she possibly know about...?

"I mean," Katie continued, "Kendall's too responsible to forget something important like this."

"So you know," I breathed, my heart racing in my chest.

She shrugged her shoulders. "How much longer?"

"The rest of day."

She instantly brightened. "That's good. And...one more thing..." Then she made a face that was a mixture of fear and disgust. "You're not an alien...are you?"

I snorted, half with laughter, half with exasperation. "That's imaginative." Then I paused to think. "No, I'm a human. A normal human girl."

"Like me?" Katie smiled.

"A bit older," I said. But she still looked happy.

"Ah, well. I guess I can relate to you better now." Then we shook hands, and she got me a banana. "You should eat some more," she suggested. "This concert will take a lot of energy..."

I took her advice and finished my toast, although I still didn't have enough apatite for the banana. Then I slipped on some sneakers and headed for the door. "Is Mom in the car?" I called over my shoulder.

"Yep, she's getting things ready. I'll call down to her and tell her you're coming."

"Thanks."

I strode down the hall, reached the front door, and began fiddling with the lock impatiently. Katie had taken that better than I'd expected. Accepted it without much thought. What I would do to be that brave and fearless.

I was still terrified for the concert. Sure, I knew Oh Yeah, and I could probably hum the tunes to their most popular songs from Siggy playing them nonstop, but I didn't know much. And dancing? Not one of my strong points. I'd never been good at it, and I was always awkward when one of my friends forced me out into the crowd and tried to make me dance.

Ah, memories. None I were particularly fond of.

After I gave a very aggravated heave, the door finally jerked open. Then I went out onto the driveway, where I could see Mrs. Knight's car. After the experience I'd had with Logan, I was glad I didn't have to drive.

"Hey, Mom," I grunted over her shoulder, before climbing inside. She had been rummaging through the trunk, arranging a few bags.

"Oh, hello," she replied nervously. Then she straightened up and closed the trunk with a loud snap. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I muttered under my breath. I buckled up and stared out through the windshield at the road winding ahead.

It promised to be tough, alright.

* * *

I arrived at the studio and instantly after I saw my friends all panting and soaked in sweat, I knew it was going to be a long day.

The rest of my bandmates knew all the choreography, and we would have flown through the rehearsal in less than a few hours. But soon Gustavo had taken notice of my confused and forgetful state, and made me go through the routine step by step. Of course, I knew almost none of it.

"Kendall, what are the lyrics to Shot in the Dark?" Gustavo demanded. "Recite them for me."

I shifted from foot to foot, nervously rubbing my palms together. "Um...I haven't sung it in a while..." I muttered uncomfortably. "...so I may get some of the lyrics wrong."

I took a long moment to think while he simply glared at me, then I finally started to hum the intro.

"...Walking on my own...I'd never go...you may not hear me...um..." My face was red by now, but I went on, still pulling words from memory. I began to stutter. "I don't want to watch the world...changing...when I'm with you my heart is...racing...a shot in the dark...can't see where you are..."

After a few more minutes of nonsense like this, I fell silent and waited for Gustavo's response. His face was pale white.

"Kendall has officially lost it." Then he keeled backwards in a faint.

It took a few minutes for Kelly to revive Gustavo, but once he was awake he still wouldn't talk. For the rest of the rehearsal he merely glowered at me from across the room. I felt like I'd done something wrong.

* * *

"It's almost time," Carlos whispered in a hushed, exited voice. "Only three more minutes, Kelly just told me." We were all backstage, standing in a circle waiting to be called on.

"I'm so nervous," Logan said quietly, gazing at Carlos for words of comfort. But Carlos only looked to me.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. I needed to think of a good speech. "Um...I know it's hard...to just walk on stage for everyone to see...to perform with everyone looking at you...but we've done it before. We can do it again."

Well, that statement clearly didn't apply to me, but it seemed to reassure them.

James nodded confidently. "I've been preparing for this my whole life." Then he whipped out a picture of a five-year-old brunette singing on stage. "It's my destiny," he said in a low, dramatic voice that made me and Carlos laugh. Even Logan smiled.

"Yeah, I know. But the rest of us..." The genius glanced around at his friends, his eyebrows raised. "It's still such a strange, unfamiliar experience."

"You're one to talk," I said, too quietly for them to hear. It had been an utter nightmare living as a boy. Of course, everything else had been perfect. But I wasn't going to admit that to anyone else.

Just then Gustavo approached. He looked very stiff, and lifted his coffee mug to his lips to hide his embarrassed face. "Boys..." He inhaled deeply, as if preparing himself for his next words. "...I'm proud of you." Then he shuddered and promptly left.

Kelly soon appeared, looking very smug. "I made him say that," she said proudly. Then she glanced around at our unimpressed expressions. "He did say something, right?"

James nodded, the picture of boredom. "Yeah. We're just used to it by now."

Kelly chuckled and nudged him with her elbow, relieved. "Oh, don't say that. You know he tries." But she was interrupted from her next sentence by Griffin coming up. He had a characteristically broad grin on his face.

"Alright, boys. Time to rock that stage!"

And we were pushed out in to the spotlight.

* * *

The roar of the fans was unbelievable; it blasted my ear drums, hitting me with a shocking force. And it echoed throughout the stadium, reflected in the excited, beaming faces of cheering girls and boys everywhere. They stood on their feet, waving their arms and sometimes holding up signs. I was dizzied by all the red and pink hearts staring back at me along with my name. Whoa.

How could anyone stay sane when there were millions of fans lovingly calling their name? How could anyone stay normal and logical? How could anyone not just flip out and start jumping around in pure ecstasy?

Because that's how I felt, and my three other bandmates were just looking at me like I was crazy. I couldn't seem to wipe the huge grin off my face, or form any coherent words. I was speechless. And yet we were already walking across the stage greeting the fans through our powerful mics.

I was terribly self-conscious of my voice being projected across the room, which was packed from wall to wall.

Luckily, I managed to say the right words, thanking the fans alongside my friends for their support and dedication. Wow, how touching. I had to stifle the urge to cry. Aww, who am I kidding. I was practically _sobbing_. How lucky was I to get to be Kendall for a day; a rich, famous pop star who got to sing at a concert?

I never would have asked for something like this, but now that it was happening to me...I was grateful for it. This whole experience had had its ups and downs, but the positives had outweighed the negatives. Overall, it was amazing to be able to sing my heart out on stage, dancing and jumping around in front of thousands of people, without a care in the world. Well, the last part was understandable for me, because whatever I did tonight, wouldn't follow me to the grave.

Tomorrow, this would all be over. I'd be myself again, and anything wrong with the concert would be blamed on Kendall and the band, not me.

It was a feeling unlike I'd ever had before. I felt oddly buoyant, like I was floating. I bounded across the stage, light on my toes because I was bursting with energy. The spotlight shining on me was dazzling and bright, and it nearly blinded me on occasion, but I couldn't care less because tomorrow none of this would matter. Of course, I knew I was doing wonderfully. Kendall's instincts had taken over with surprising ferocity, seizing control and making me do the moves he'd learned to perform.

Finally it was over, and although I gasped desperately for air; although sweat matted my hair to my forehead; I was happy, and we ended the song on a long, fading note, before the lights on the stage slowly dimmed. It was over.

The band clumped together in one large group hug. James squashed me to his chest, and Logan reached over to tousle my hair. Carlos jumped up and down excitedly, his hockey helmet nearly flying off his head. Even James seemed unconcerned about the current state of his hair, which was messy and wet (with sweat, despite his amazing strength).

And I embraced them in return, laughing and cheering and in general celebrating the success of our concert. Finally we headed backstage to collapse on a comfy sofa and guzzle enough energy drinks to stay awake for the ride home. The whole time various people came up to us and complimented us on our performance, confessing that they were big fans. And although the constant scribbles I was forced to crank out were tedious, they were worth it because along with them came undeniable praise, telling us we were good...

I knew the image BTR had was carefully cultivated by them, not me. I was just an outsider, someone observing their lives a day at a time. But still, it warmed my heart to know there were so many great fans out there...

We rode a limo home, leaning back comfortably on the fine leather seats, enjoying the quiet music playing in our ears. Ignoring anything outside the confines of our small world, ignoring anyone other than ourselves. It was as if the world revolved around us. It was foolish and selfish to think, but it was how we felt.

We felt...awesome.


	6. The Last Big Night

I collapsed on my bed with a happy groan, landing on the bedspread with a soft thump. Then I stretched out my arms, dangling my fingertips over the edge. The room was dark and there was only a slight yellow sheen coming from the lamp. It had been a long day, and yet I was too jittery to fall asleep.

Eventually I kicked off my shoes and wormed my way down under the covers, trying to get comfortable on the stiff mattress. I shifted from side to side, and finally settled down facing the windows on my right. Gazing out through the clear glass shield, I could see a bustling, bright city below. I let my eyes close and imagined the concert. I could still hear the music ringing in my ears, and the thunderous applause.

Finally I began to calm. My breathing slowed and my eyes shut; I was too lazy to turn off the lamp, so the room was still a shadowy gray. Light leaked through my eyelids and stained them red. I pulled the comforter over my head, and that's when I was able to fall asleep.

I woke up occasionally in between dreams, scared and confused. But I always fell asleep again, and I knew subconsciously that something was wrong.

* * *

The second I became conscious of my surroundings, I realized something was off. After a few minutes of just laying there and waiting for the feeling to pass, I became very irritated and forced open my eyes. Then I panicked.

What? I was still in Kendall's room! I'd assumed that I would finally be back in my own body, now that I'd spent a day in each of the boy's shoes, but nothing had changed! I started to cry when I realized I could be stuck like this, living the life of an uneducated teenage boy. I didn't want to be a singer or actor; I wanted to be a normal person who went to college and got a good job. Most importantly, I didn't want to forget who I really was, or all the awesome family and friends I'd come to know in my old life.

I locked the door and flopped back on the bed, trying to stifle my loud gasps of breath as tears gushed from my eyes.

* * *

"Kendall won't get out of bed."

I'd laid there for 16 hours, my face pressed into the pillow, not bothering to speak to anyone or even utter a sound. I hadn't eaten all day, and now it was 11:00. I was starving and dead tired, since I wouldn't let myself fall asleep. I was too determined to wallow in self-pity; by now my pillow was soaked with tears.

Strange what being Kendall can do to you.

I heard the door open and close, a cold draft briefly blowing in from the hall. Then quiet footsteps as all four of my best friends surrounded my bed. "Kendall?" Carlos's quiet, uncertain voice. "Mrs. Knight says you won't eat or talk. Was it something I...we...did?"

I shook my head slowly back and forth, still not lifting my face. There was a long, awkward silence.

"Well," James started off, "...Is there anything we can do?"

How heartbreakingly kind that after all the trouble I'd caused them they were offering help and blaming themselves. I finally let myself speak. My voice was hoarse.

"There's nothing you can do to help. It's even beyond my control." I shifted slightly to the right, as if to finally show my face, but I couldn't bring myself to expose my puffy red eyes. I would let them keep believing I was the dark, brooding type, not the crybaby. "All I want to do...is go home."

"Home?" Logan put in. "You are home. You're lying in your own bed, Kendall."

"You wouldn't understand," I said, my voice muffled through the pillow. "I mean home home. Where I belong."

"The Palm Woods? Minnesota?" James guessed wildly. But I shook my head to each.

"Just accept the fact that you'll never understand this. I'm just...sad...because if I'm right, then my whole life could be...really messed up. Totally different than it would have been. If only I'd...been a better person."

Logan sat down on the edge of my bed, and then Carlos followed. "But," the former said gently, "You're a great person! You're really nice and down-to-earth. You're the leader of our group. Don't..." He seemed to swallow. "...don't go crazy cuz you think you're a bad person."

"Yeah, totally!" Carlos piped up. "You're not a bad boy-you'd never turn your back on your friends!"

"I wish the problem was as simple as that," I sniffed. "But...this whole thing is punishment for the way I acted, all the mean things I said. Never to you, or anyone you know. To Siggy and Mom and Dad...Especially Siggy. I always teased her for..."

All of a sudden I sat up, my eyes glowing. "Listen-James, Carlos, Logan, everyone. I'm about to make up for all the bad things I said." I took a deep breath. "You are-the best friends I could ever have, you're awesome people, and I'll never tease anyone again for liking you guys."

My head started feeling heavy and I yawned, settling back onto the bed. "Now you have to promise...never to speak of this again. To me, or anyone else... Let's just forget about it. Just treasure it in your minds as that one time Kendall went mad..."

We all laughed, and then I was gone.


	7. Aftershock

I lurched in my sleep and fell out of bed. Then I opened my eyes to a face full of carpet.

Blowing the dust bunnies out of my way, I pushed myself up into a kneeling position and just sat there, marveling at the feeling of being back in my own body again. It felt so...right. I'd gradually adapted to being a teenage boy during those four days, but it really had been awkward and uncomfortable-and overall, painful. Needless to say, I was glad to have all the right parts again.

First thing I did was turn off my alarm, which somehow had been blaring loudly without my notice. Then I dug out ten bucks from my wallet and returned it to Siggy's night stand. Okay, so I'd righted one of my sins.

Next I rushed into the kitchen to check the calendar and its date. I was pleasantly surprised to find that only 9 hours had passed since I'd cried myself to sleep. Now I was actually happy to go to California. My experience had taught me that along with the right people, it could seem like the happiest place on earth. Over those four extra days, I'd also had the time to mourn and then move on from my friends who I'd be leaving behind. After all, I could still contact them easily; the modern world had gmail and other websites through which I could send them lengthy texts.

I started feeling an unexplained joy.

That morning I told Mom that I wasn't so concerned about moving, and apologized to Siggy for all the nagging I'd done. I promised her it would never happen again-at least not when it was concerning Big Time Rush. Over the course of my adventure I'd grown to be a fan. I could actually teach her a thing or two.

Next I had Mom drive me to a music store. It took about 10 minutes of thorough searching, but I eventually found the CD I was looking for. I stared at the emblem for a moment before putting it on the counter to check it out. This would be like Siggy's early Christmas.

The most pleasurable thing that would happen to me for a while was a few months later when Oh Yeah came onto the radio and both Siggy and I started singing along.

* * *

I was crossing the street when suddenly someone tripped and sprawled forwards, knocking into me and sending me onto the ground. I lay there in the dirty asphalt, my elbow scraped and bleeding badly. I slowly curled up, nursing my injury.

But the tall boy helped me up and gently guided me to an outside table at a restaurant nearby, where he asked me if I was okay. "Um...yeah." I finally stopped squinting and glanced up at his face.

There he was, my Knight in shining armer. He was smiling at me and squinting slightly due to the sunlight. His collared shirt was loose and unbuttoned partway down his chest, his dark eyebrows gently sloping down. I was looking at him directly for the first time; I'd seen his body on posters and been in it before, but never had I been a 13-year-old girl only a few feet away staring blankly as she took it all in.

"Kendall!" I gasped, a hand fluttering to my mouth. He looked puzzled, while slightly pleased.

"Are you a fan?" I noticed that even while he spoke to me, he didn't take his eyes off my bleeding cut. But the delicate pressure of his fingers on my wrist as he held my arm still made it easy to ignore the pain.

"Err...I've heard of you before," I said awkwardly. "My sister has your face all over her walls."

He looked amused and took the time to glance up at my face. "Really? Huh." Then he started peeling a bandaid apart to put on my cut.

"Thank you so much for this," I insisted as he pressed it onto the wound. "You really don't have to..."

"Have I met you before?" he interjected suddenly. I felt a bit disgruntled by his interruption, but quickly got over it.

"No, I don't think..."

"But...you look so familliar. Do you live around here?"

I shrugged, blushing. "Uh, I think I'm your new neighbor, actually."

"Whoa!" he grinned, throwing his hands up. "Wait, so what's your name?"

"Abby," I said timidly. "I just got here earlier today, so you wouldn't have seen me yet."

"And I'm really busy," he told me jokingly, "So I might not have seen you in another week! Despite you getting hurt, I really enjoyed this." He firmly shook my hand, leaving me weak like jelly. "Well, I gotta get to work. Are you an actor?"

I gazed longingly at him as he trotted backwards, trying to catch my last few words. "Not yet, but you'll be seeing me soon!"

And that was just the beginning of my friendship with Kendall Knight.


End file.
